You know that moment in weddings when the officiant asks if anyone objects? My mother took that way too seriously.
She stood up, fake tears in her eyes, and tried to destroy my marriage before it even began. Little did she know, my fiancé had the ultimate mic-drop moment prepared for her.
I met Brian in the most unexpected place—the metro. It was almost midnight, the train was nearly empty except for a few tired commuters.
I slouched in my seat, my feet aching from a long 12-hour shift at the hospital where I worked as a nurse.
That’s when I noticed him sitting across from me, completely absorbed in a well-worn copy of The Great Gatsby, his brow furrowed in concentration.
There was something captivating about him—how he sat there in his faded navy hoodie and worn sneakers, completely unbothered by the world around him. I couldn’t help but steal glances.
When he finally looked up and caught me staring, I quickly turned my eyes away, a blush creeping up my cheeks.
“Fitzgerald has that effect on people,” he said with a soft smile. “Makes you forget where you are.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve never read it.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Never? You’re missing out on one of the greatest American novels ever written.”
I shrugged. “I guess I don’t have much time for reading these days.”
We didn’t exchange numbers that night. I figured he was just another stranger on the train… a brief, pleasant conversation that would fade into memory.
“Maybe our paths will cross again,” he said as he stepped off at his stop. “If they do, I’ll lend you my copy.”
“I’d like that,” I replied, not believing for a second it would actually happen.
“Sometimes the best stories find us when we least expect them,” he said with a wink before the doors closed between us.
A week later, fate intervened.
